


Don't mention it

by Pirateking



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bad Parenting, Dysfunctional Relationships, First Love, Hrax culture, Hraxian Kraglin, Interspecies Relationship(s), Love isn't real, No one told that to Peter, Other, Past Violence, Ravager Culture, Yondu needs help with feelings, mild child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-11-20 01:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11325393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirateking/pseuds/Pirateking
Summary: Yondu and Kraglin never talk about the important things. But Peter does.





	1. Chapter 1

There were many things that Kraglin and Yondu didn’t mention to one another, things that ranged from the mundane like Yondu not showering in a month or Kraglin forgetting to brush his hair, or more serious things like hurt feelings or the nature of Peter and Yondu’s relationship. Not that neither didn’t know when the other was hiding a bruised ego or fatherly affection towards Peter growing with each galaxy that the Revengers traveled passed. No, those things weren’t a secret in their relationship just simply something they didn’t talk about. Yes, there are many things that the two revengers simply didn’t know how to express or encompass in their day to day lives. One simply knew and didn’t talk about it. There were, of course, other things that they wanted to know but didn’t dare ask or look into. Whip marks that crisscrossed blue skin or tiny black tattoos that climbed up a pale skinny body. Sure, Kraglin could guess anyone could guess and find their own answers to an obvious cause of whip marks. Yondu was a Kree slave that carried the scars to prove it both on his skin and within himself. But it was the later that few asked about even Yondu, because everyone knew those tiny angular tattoos placed around the neck and down the spine where marks for marriage.

Yondu shouldn’t care and wouldn’t really if the damn brat didn’t stop asking questions. Peter recently learned about Hrax runes and their meanings from his endless need of know flarking everything (a serious Terran youth condition as far as any revenger was concerned) and had seen Kraglin’s body during a shower. Because of his age Yondu had made it clear to Peter that he was only allowed to clean up when Kraglin or Yondu were around to keep watch. _I don’t need your weird terran anatomy given my boys nightmares_ had been the excuse given to the boy at the time but at 11 Peter has pretty much caught on to the dangers of showering alone when you’re at the bottom of the revenger food chain.  It really hadn’t been too bad of an arrangement everyone soaped up and kept their eyes to themselves, no talking, no touching, and definite NO staring. Sure, Yondu missed being able to touch and grope Kraglin but a dads got to do what a dads got to do.

“Are you and Kraglin married?” had been the initial question from the boy when given a chance to ask once outside of the shower _The showers ae fa showering boy, not talk’n, don’t wanna be gospin when the wata already drowns out the sounds of a possible attack_ His curly brown locks needing to be cut again hung limply around Peter’s head

“What? Flark no, what gave you that idea”

“Well yesterday I noticed he had marriage marks on him, you two share the same bed so I just figure-”

“Ya think sharing a bed and what not makes you married?” Yondu slapped a hand against Peters back “what kind of back water customs are terrans into?”

“Well it’s true, right?! He’s married so whach ya doing sleeping with a married man Yondu!” the small tarran snapped back, hands crossed over his chest given his best scowl. It looked more like a pout to Yondu. “shouldn’t he be with his wife err husband?” _not you_ was the unspoken part.

Not going to let the boy see how much that last comment bothered him, Yondu cuffed Peter behind the ear and sent him to memorize all the parts of an m-ship by the next day rotation or else he’d be cleaning the vents till he’s 30. Damn brat, Yondu did what Yondu wanted even if it was a married Hraxian. He didn’t give damn about tiny geometric figures that peppered his first mate’s spine. They were fading with each year that the two had begun whatever it is that they have. It wasn’t like it meant anything, not like late nights going over flight charts did or thieving missions or taken care of a small tarren together. Yondu knew better than to let what the boy said or didn’t say get to him. He never asked Kraglin because well, he never cared. OK maybe he cared a little, but once you joined as a revenger your past was just that - pasted. It didn’t mean squat once you donned the red. So yeah, Yondu didn’t give a damn.

Several day and night cycles had passed before Yondu thought of those ugly smudges that marred his mates back, err first mate’s back not _mate_ no definitely not that. Kraglin was getting dressed after a satisfying tumble in the sheets his long skinny back exposed for Yondu to see while he zipped up the lower part of his jump suite.  With a more critical eye Yondu could see that each mark ranged in size of about a bottle cap each different in geometric design and shape. Some were angular while others were round.  And even when faded flark… they were beautiful.

Kraglin’s left side of his neck had the sharp angular ones that swirled down by each blade of his wide shoulders becoming rounder as they traveled down his spine towards his narrow waist finishing with a perfectly circular one next to his hip bone. Yondu didn’t lean closer to look, but he wanted to. He’ll have to get a better look at it the next time he’s got Kraglin on his knees, instead of focusing on the pleasure he’ll have to be investigating. And yeah he’d ignore that weird guilty feeling bubbling in his gut. Hey, he lets Kraglin stick his face up his legs so Yondu studying his tattoos is a fair deal, right? His thoughts are cut off when Kraglin pulls on worn t-shirt to shrug on the rest of his jump suite.

“Ye alright Captain? You’ve been quite for a bit sir.”

“Wake me in an hour, I need to catch up on some sleep”

“Alright, I’ll bring ya something to eat too if you’d like sir?” he mumbles that last part, sentimental idjit can be worse than the brat.

“whatevr” Kraglin didn’t say anything after that, just left their room _his_ room damnit! To start his rounds. And no Yondu didn’t get a warm fuzzy feeling when an hour later Kraglin came in with something warm for his stomach and a glass of cold beer. Sentimental idiot wouldn’t get anything from Yondu.

 

 

He regretted it, Yondu regretted a lot of things like working for Ego, losing Staka’s friendship, and more recently getting a good look at those perfectly made differently not fading marriage tattoos that stood proudly on his mates back, err first mate damn it! They were well done, Hrax tattoos where set deep, carved into skin and branded in some places first before adding the ink. It added a sense of depth and meaning. And now Yondu wanted to know everything about them, how was it done, what each meant, when did he get them, who did he get them for. 

Years of slavery had made Yondu greedier bastard than most which meant that Yondu Udonta definitely didn’t share, not his food, not his ship, not his title, not his kid and definitely not his mate… damn it first mate! And those swirly marks didn’t mean a thing to him. And if they meant something to Kraglins then that was his problem.

What really eats at him was the possibility of someone sharing those marks with Kraglin. Some Hraxian walking around with the same markings and meanings binding them to Kraglin forever. And that just wouldn’t do, nope he wanted Kraglin for himself that skinny greasy haired gutter kid was his and his alone.  So if the next time he finds himself on his back with Kraglin nailing him into his furs he makes sure to drag his ragged nails across the markings leaving ugly red scratch marks over them.

And when it was time for him to be doing the fucking he has Kraglin on all fours. That bony bottom taking in the Centaurian’s full cock, thick purple flesh dipping in and out of a tight well lubed pink pucker. His mate making those delicious noises, strangled gasps barely sounding out his name. And Kraglins leanly muscled back giving him a full view of those marriage tattoos. A position than Yondu would never get in, too submissive and too vulnerable giving your back to someone like that was asking for trouble. His scars for the judgment of the world to see. And instead of valuing the trust that Kraglin was giving him with his ass in the air and his chest on to the floor of the captain’s room.

 Yondu took the opportunity to rake his sharpest nails down over the most beautiful and largest of the tattoos. A hexagon one the size of lemon whose lines were crisp and the black ink twisted around red ink looking like a flower. It felt like it was mocking Yondu, laughing at him and Kraglin’s whatever type of association. Calling them a sham, something that will eventually be stolen from Yondu.  He sunk his pointed nail right into it.

“Owe Captain what the hell!” Kraglin bucked against him, not in a sexy way either. kicking his legs from under him causing Yondu to stumble and pull out. “That hurt!” he said while rolling over.

“S, an accident Krags.” No, it wasn’t. He reached for him, cupping Kraglins shoulders in what he hoped was reassuring “Com ‘ere Darl’n, won’t do it again” probably will, with a skinning knife.

“Ya never done that before, ya mad at me or something?” Kragglin put a hand on his biceps, his thumb rubbing circles on his blue skin. Sentimental idiot always rolled over and showed his belly whenever Yondo sweet talked him.  Literally this time, his back was firmly placed on the floor tattoos hidden except for the ones on his neck. Yondu will have to stay way from that side unless he lost control again.

“No, just be’n sloppy.” Yondu leaned in to trail kiss up the right side his neck working his way to Kraglins lips, and that really got Kragglins attention. Poor sap turned to mush whenever given any type of affection leaning into Yondu’s touch like a starved man would a plate of food. “Don’t mean noth’n by it” Kraglin seemed to buy it, his body relaxed while he spread his hairy thighs wider flashing him a good look of that hole leaking with lube and pre-cum in an invitation that Yondu would never turn down.

 

 

 

It was the kid that finally couldn’t handle not asking, his big gu-gu eyes ready to burst with curiosity one evening when they were planet side after a successful mission. Most the crew had gone out looking for booze, whores, or a decent non-dehydrated meal. The Captain and first mate had to stay behind make sure the paperwork and accounts were balanced and checked before going out into the night. Inventory had to be made, spare parts accounted for, and a sharp eye to catch anyone or anything trying to play stowaway. It was at this point where both were looking over the mechanic's notes and doing a once over alone in the engine room that Peter finally asked.

“Kraglin who are you married to?” the first mates head snapped up in surprise, thin lips stretched into a grimmest of frowns.

“Didn’t I tell ya no staring in the showers?”

“I didn’t stare, I just noticed them that’s all!” Peter stuck his tongue out “Just want to know.” He looked forlornly up at the Hrax clutching the rim of his shirt pouting. Yondu had expected the brat to get a well-deserved slap or even another snarky come back. Not an actual answer. Then again, they learned that sometimes it was best to give Pete answers then let the kid come up with his own.

“I ain't married to no one Pete, never have been.” Kraglin looks back down at the charts signaling that the conversation is over. Yondu feels a knot loosen in his gut.

“but I read-"

“They're engagement marks you idjit, read more than a few sentences” Kraglin snapped at him, clearly showing his irritation. Quill still being an idiot pressed on. 

“Oh…so you’re not married - just engaged?” the knot in his gut twisted twice as hard. Kraglin was engaged; will that wouldn’t due, he wasn’t going to warm the bed for some other asshole. Yondu wouldn't stand for that, he’d kill everyone on this ship before he let Kraglin walk into the arms of another.

Kraglin lets out a deep sigh runs a hand down his grimy face, lips pressing even harder together words growling out  

“No Peter, I aint engaged either. I was for a bit then it I wasn’t, and thas that.” He gave the boy a good view of his leather clad back and continued checking the engine. Yondu sent Peter a stern look and handed him a mop.

“Go mop up hall H15 boy, don’t cha see we’re busy.” Peter grumbled about it but went to do it. And yeah if Yondu felt light as a butterfly after and treated that damn brat with a hot meal out of the ship well neither of them mentioned it. 

 


	2. Special moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't know how to take a hint

Yondu had to give it to the kid when he put his mind in doing something he did it. Like being the biggest pain in the ass Kraglin could have asked for. Since the tattoos had been mentioned and surprisingly answered, the small freckled nightmare took it as a sign to ask Kraglin every damn thing he could think about. Which worked great for Yondu, he no longer had to claw at the Hraxians back to feel some responses towards his not asked unanswered questions. All he had to do is set Peter on the trail and the boy would dig it out of his first mate for him.

They were at a dingy street vendor that sold roasted meat on a skewer, a perfect late-night snack. Some of the crew milled about around the surrounding stalls and alleyways picking up snacks, trinkets, or lottery tickets but most by this time had found their way back to the ship or a whore house to spend the night. Tulik would be keeping an eye on things while Yondu, Kraglin and the brat got some fresh air.  The smell of sizzled meat hung around them hazing the view of the night sky above, gray water pooled and rotted at street corners releasing the heavy pungent odor that all heavy traffic city areas had, while sex workers of all nations slinked around with perfumes and glittery skin.

Currently, Yondu was happily chomping away at some spiced meat, his stomach doing back flips every time Kraglin bought him and the kid something off one of the stalls. Kraglin was a frugal man, all street kids are, no one would ever catch Kraglin spending money in new clothing, shoes, whores, or alcohol, those expenses were left for when he really needed them, but he never minded buying food. Yondu was pretty sure that giving Kraglin food any food would brighten the man’s day. And said man must be in a really good mood if he’s sharing his food willingly.

It was of course at this time that Peter would ambush with his questions, the boy had enough of a foresight to see that Kraglin only answered when no one was at earshot except for Yondu of course to overhear.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-two in Hraxian, thirty-five in Xandarian and forty according to the Nova Corp, don't know what in Tarran”

“How old were you when you joined the ravangers?”

“Twenty”

All things Yondu already knew and was wondering when Quill would get on with it and ask the better questions

“Did you leave from Hrax?”

“Pretty close, I left off of one of its moons.”

“You were born on the moon?”

“No, ding bag, I left Hrax to work on one of it’s moons, I joined the crew when I was living on the moon called Xtraxz” Kraglin rolled his eyes “was there for bout – two maybe three months.” Well, that bit Yondu didn’t know, but it as still pretty irrelevant.

“How old were you when you got engaged, my mama would have married my dad had he asked. She told me that all the time how she’d marry him in a jiffy, God willing of course” the boy went quiet, as was normal whenever he brought up his mom. Small hands deftly looking in his jacket pocket for his Walkmen. He wouldn’t find it though, Yondu had forbidden him from wearing them outside on the streets _Ya ain’t  gonna hear noth’n, not when someone steals from ya or pushes a piece of steel in ya, boy, just asking for trouble_ realizing that he wouldn’t be finding his security blanket, Peter looked at Kraglin expectantly.

Kraglin bit into a glazed piece of meat, before deciding that Yondu was looking at it too hard and offered it to him. Yondu’s stomach did two more flips, he grunted a response as he eagerly tore into it, honey glaze dribbling down his cheek and sticking to his crooked angular teeth. Wiping his mouth with the back side of his palm Kraglin let out belch before answering

“sixteen.”

“Wow that’s only like a year before my mom had me!” and didn’t that say something about Ego. But hey the kid was getting somewhere. “Did  you guys meet at a groceiry store or a Dairy queen?” Yondu didn’t know what a grose ore was or a Damey queen for that matter but hell yeah he wanted to know where dumb sixteen year old Kraglin met his no longer gone forever betrothed.

“Where we met?” Kraglin seemed to contemplate it “I’m not actually a hundred percent sure, we’d always known each other. Grew up together ya know?” Kraglin was a gutter kid, Yondu knew that. Children from pods that belonged to the lowest caste meant to work in the coal mines to live in the narrowest tunnels and keep away from the more valuable population. Children with stigmas of being defected, unwanted, or damaged. You didn’t have to look far to see these defects on Kraglin. He was ugly by most standards and hideous by that of his own peoples. Tall and lanky instead of robust and stalky. His skin too dark not flawless and moonlight like as is expected from a species that was rare to see any sun. His features too angular, his eyes too dark, his body too hairy, and too boney. There were other things too, like the fourth row of teeth when there should only be three, finger joints that couldn’t fully lock, and other things, things that Yondu never mentioned. Kraglin didn’t ask about his fin and Yondu wouldn’t ask about those other things either.

“where you guys always together?” Peter asked, as he licked sauce from his fingers.

“Na, just from fifteen to nineteen” Peter didn’t ask any more questions from there on, to preoccupied in the task set in front of him. Today Peter wouldn’t be pick pocketing like most nights, no he’s gotten that skill down already, tonight Yondu wanted to see if Peter could steal from necklines and wrists. He was even letting the brat pick what he wanted. Quill's eyes had clearly been caught by the green pendant hanging from the neck of a stall owner. A pretty thing that dangled right above a boiling pot of oil.

“Boy, remember what I said about think’n things through?” Yondu drawled out, clearly seeing where Quill’s had in mind “It’s perty I’ll give ya points for taste, but – “ Peter was already gone. Seeing as there would be no stopping the hurricane that is Peter Quill the two positioned themselves a few stalls over, pretending to look at some fried dumplings. Both ready for an attach or a quick getaway .

Peter hadn’t gotten his growth spirt yet, his chest barely made it past the table in which the lady kneeded her bread on before dunking them in hot oil. There was a point though where she had to lean down from table to broiler that caused the pendant to swish forward and down at just the right height and angle. If he snatched it too soon the woman would snatch him before he made a run for it, too late and his hand would be disfigured for life.

Watching the boy, made Yondu wonder if he should step in at tell the kid to forget about it. But on the other hand, if Quill was quick enough and clever enough he could walk away with a pretty pendant. Yondu had faith in his boy, he’d seen him steal babies right out of mother’s arms.

 He had one eye on Peter and another on the dumplings, could he get Kraglin to buy him some? When suddenly there was a scream followed by a wail. It all happened so fast, Yondu found himself with an arm full of crying tarren before he could asses the problem. Kraglin had some how made his way to the stall to talk to the lady, whatever he said seemed to apiece her as he bought four of the sugary dough treat.

“Stop crying boy.” Quill held on to him with his one good hand, jeez that other hand wasn’t bad Yondu had got way worse during his time as a slave and never screamed that much. _So flarking dramatic._ Boy’s left hand was red with signs of blisters showing up at the palm and fingers. A relief seeing as Yondu had expected to see a deep-fried fingers. Dumb kid must have placed his hand on the outside of broiler to lean in and get a better look, not realizing that the outside would be hot as well. “You got nobody else to blame but yer self” Some of the ravangers still hanging around the stall, looked over and snorted. Everyone had to learn the lesson of assessing a situation at some point, Quill learned it tonight. “Stop crying ya baby, your han not gonna fall off or not’n” fat tears tracked down his face. His good hand clutching Yondu’s leather jacket as some kind of anchor as he struggled to contain his hiccups while wobbly lips blowed on his burnt hands between hitches. 

“I want my music” his whispered pitifully to himself.

“I’ll take him back to the ship Captain, no reason for ya to ruin your night over this sir.” Kraglin said as he took Quill by the shoulder. “Come on Pete, let's get some ice on that.” Neither mentioned the bag of bready sweets that the first mate had stashed in his pocket, and Yondu let them leave his side for the night. He needed to meet with a contact anyway.

 

 

When he finally returned to the ship most the crew was asleep, the contact proved to be more useful than he thought and he’d been able to secure a well-paid job. Graveyard shift was already working, moving shipment in and out of the ship. Right now, the Eclector’s side hustle was the transportation of illicit drugs. The kind of drugs that tripped a user into another dimension according to rumors, going by the name of _Day Dream_. It only took a little bit to overdose and one hit to be addicted for life.  He had hour round surveillance on the stuff, no one was allowed around it without him, Kraglin, or Tullk to oversee. The last thing he needed was a ship full of junkies.

Ravangers have always transported drugs, the best thing about it was that no one asked questions and no one cared if Yondu and his crew's exile status. It was all about the bottom units with drug lords, to hell with honor. Drug money covered for the most basic expenses, rust treatment, fuel, and most importantly it gave some petty cash for the crew to spend. Even a little bit a money every few cycles soothed tempers and kept the crew working. Yondu and his crew handled deep space drug traffic higher paying than what you'd get doing it in Nova space but not as high paying as trafficking in Kree space and no one touched those as far as Yondu had evern known. The big risky stealing jobs gave the fame and glory that brought in new recruits and kept the roundier ones in their place. 

“Captain on board” Tullk announced , saluting where he stood. Other ravangers followed suite or straightened up when carrying some of the heavy cargo. Waving a hand to dismiss the formality Yondu went to stand by Tullk. “Boss?”

“Payment secured, one last run to Zacan for the final drop off of this shit, then we’re off to another job - a highly paying one.” Tullik nodded his lip hitched at the corners showing that he was pleased with the revelation. Ravangers weren't’ meant to stand idle, they needed hard work that paid and danger to keep them feeling alive. " We leave in a couple of hours" 

“Ya hear that ya greasy mongrels! We just got paid! 200 fat once for all youz!” there was a series of cheers “ So get your fat asses moving, we’ve got to leave come morning cause we’ve got ourselves another job lined up!” more cheers erupted, Yondu stood up tall as his crew shouted out praises for him. Yeah, Yondu could deliver, he never let any of his crew’s hard work go to waste.

He left the cargo hold and headed in the direction of his room, he needed to sleep before they took off in a few hours. But first, the Centairien had to check on that damn brat. He made his way to Peter’s room, well it was really an old storage locker adjacent to the first mate's room, where the captain and first mates kept highly valuable cargo such as treasure and in this case one small tarren curled up on a mattress located on the floor. He looked alright, his hand bandaged and the scent of cooling jell hung in the air. His Walkman long turned off clutched in the other. An empty bag of fried treats crumbled on the floor. He’d have to talk to Kraglin about letting the boy eat in bed, it brought vermin that caused illness and chewed up wires. Yondu didn’t push personal hygiene, but he always kept a clean ship. Whole crews could be wiped out with a bite from some foreign critter or space mold growing in the vents.

He shut the door behind him, the kid was ok. He dragged himself to the first mates room. Kraglin would’t be in the Captains room without Yondu inviting him, so he’d be sleeping in his much smaller single bunk room. No different in size then Peter’s room, only that it had a real one person bed, a drawer and a table. A small port window no bigger than a dinner plate located at the farthest wall. Kraglin sat up right away when he heard his door open dagger in hand.

“Jus me” Yondu grumbled before taking off his outer layers and throwing it over the table. Putting the weapon away Kraglin got up to help remove his boots and belt. When finished Captain and first mate scrunched together to fit in the bed. Kraglins back pressed against the wall while Yondu more or less draped himself over him. Blue face tucked into Kraglins neck, lean arms holding him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind Peter's mom had to be no older than a teen, somewhere between 16-19 because no grown women would fall for a guy that claimed to come from the stars, that's just crazy. Also for the mutiny to have happened when Peter is already a grown man, indicates to me that Yondu must have full filled his role as a captain pretty well. sure there might have been several attempts at mutiny but not continuously. I mean Peter was already a full grown man, not some small kid when things when south. 
> 
> I still don't have a beta, so i'm sorry if its confusing and for the miss spellings.


	3. All the odd things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to pamdizzle that's made my work waaaay better than it was. She's really helped make sense of all my rambling. Also, want to mention Write_like_an_American who's inspired me enough to actually try my hand at writing again. I've fallen in love with her Kraglin Hraxian and will be borrowing some of her things (mainly his teeth and Hraxians living underground) but will be putting my own spin on things.

The mission had three parts to it: Steal weapons from a Nova shipment, transport those weapons to an insurgent militia, and take down the Nova communications tower located in a small satellite that may or may not be classified as a moon. The Eclector and the Ravagers would be gone before the break of any resultant civil war.  He’d given the details to Tullk and Horuz – so far, the crew thought they were simply stealing the guns for fun to sell later at the black market and that the job was on the way. The less people who knew the true nature of the mission the better.

 

He was sure that his first mate wouldn’t care much one way or the other. The skinny fool hadn’t cared about drug dealing or trafficking small children to a monster, after all, so why would he care about plunging a species into the raving mad slaughter-fest that civil wars always were? Yondu was sure that his cold-hearted, not-mate-but- _ first _ -mate wouldn’t bat an eye to good money, even if that mass grave would be located on his home planet.

 

The politics of Hrax were tricky. Dubbed the battery of the NOVA Corp, it produced petroleum and natural gases unique to it’s geology, lighter and more efficient than anything you’d find in the known universe. Its precious metals were stronger and more malleable than traditional metals (Yondu would know, he’d coveted a ship made out of it for forever), and its gems more valued than its people. Hrax had experienced several small rebellions throughout its history already. Hell, Yondu’s first big run had been during such a movement. Stakar had sent him and a small group of Ravagers to take advantage of the situation, and steal some valuable gems located inside one of Hrax’s many valuable mines which had been caught between rebel militia and NOVA Corp artillery. Fun times.

A formerly active volcanic planet, Hrax’s miles upon miles of weathered basalt gave it a signature blackened look. It was a planet where no photosynthetic life had evolved beyond the stage of mosses and shrubs. It might have had beautiful black beaches once, when blue pools of geothermally warmed waters had covered a fourth of the planet; now they ran brown and sluggish with filth. Had Hrax been given enough time without centennial interference it might have developed into something worth looking at. 

Its five moons were harvested beyond recognition, while large metropolitan cities had been established on two of the five; Kovu and Hraxun, breathtaking cities that rivaled even those found on Xandar. Inhabited by the species’ upper-tier castes. The glare from their cities’ windows was visible far into space, bright enough to blind anyone that looked at them from Hrax itself. 

 

Yondu had been to that hellhole once, and once was enough for an entire lifetime. The caste system was nauseating, worse than Xandar’s. Yondu might even compare them to the Kree with how they had over half of the population living in poverty and working like slaves.  Ironically, however, it wasn’t the poor that fought for rights, but the citizens of the two moons. Constantly battling to dominate one another and using the planet-side Hraxians as living sacrifices to their greed. Yeah, Yondu could guess why Kraglin took the first ship out of that dump.

 

It was then that Peter came running towards him, wet hair and boots squeaking under him. Neither Yondu nor Kraglin understood why the Terran required so many showers in a week, but the kid  _ had  _ to shower every three days or he’d smell ranker than a sweaty Badoon. Yondu wasn’t looking forward to when Peter hit puberty. He’d probably reek like a corpse.

 

“Boy, what I tell ya ‘bout runnin when wet?” Paying no mind, Peter squeaked to a halt right in front of Yondu. The small boy looked left then right to make sure no one was around before leveling Yondu with his best tough guy expression.

 

“Yondu, is Kraglin a girl?” This kid would be the death of him, Yondu was sure of it.

 

“You been starin’ in the showers again boy? Ya want me to take away your shower privilege for a month?”  

 

“I wasn’t staring! Kraglin slipped and so I looked over to make sure he was ok!” Quill’s lower lip stuck out, soggy bandaged hand curled into a half fist. “And he doesn’t have nothing between his legs but a -ouch!” Peter clutched his head where Yondu had knocked it with his holo-pad 

 

“Why’d you do that for?!”

 

“Cause you’re tempting me to let the cooks slice you up and serve you for dinner tonight.” And that shut the brat up quick. Yondu went on before Quill could interrupt. “Look dumbass, not all species look like yours between their legs, got that? Kraglin’s kind keeps all their junk inside ‘em for protection. Yours and my species tangle out, tha’s all.”

 

“Kraglin’s junk is like a dolphin’s?”

 

Yondu didn’t have time for this. “Yeah, sure, like a bow fin. Now go mop the mess ya’ve left.”  He lifted his holo-pad above menacingly for good measure. Peter grumbled but turned towards the direction of the mop closet

 

“Wait Yondu – Captain!” Yondu looked over his shoulder to where Peter stood, his nose scrunched up in what Yondu had to admit could only be the world’s cutest scowl. “My junk doesn’t tangle out.” All Yondu could do was laugh as he left the kid clutching a new bruise on his head. 

\--

“Brat got an eye full of me today in the showers,” was the opening line of Kraglins and Yondu’s conversation for the day.

 

Yondu squeezed his eyes closed as he got more comfortable on his bed. His shift was over and he had about thirty minutes before Kraglin left for the start of his own. This was the last conversation he wanted to be having right now. He wanted to lay down and have Kraglin run his hands up and down his sore, tight muscles or pet the tender spots around his fin. Not that he would ask for such fru-fru sentimental garbage, it was just that Kraglin was an affectionate worm that couldn’t keep his hands off of him, that’s all. Yondu wasn’t about to stop him if it made his first mate feel better. After all, it was the captain and first mate’s job to make sure morale stayed up among crew members. He was just putting in his part.

 

Kraglin didn’t approach their –   _ his  _ bed. Instead, he stayed standing by the door, looking at his holo-pad and checking everything to be done during his shift. The first mate’s job was that of logistics and accounting; Kraglin was in charge of making sure all the numbers added up and relaying whatever expenses were necessary to the captain. Beyond that, it was his job to keep a rapport with the crew, and track any troubling gossip (threats of mutiny, to be specific).

 

“He asked for a list of every crew member on the ship, along with who’s got what in between their legs.” Kraglin’s voice carried no indication of emotion.

 

“Fuck that, I don’t ask for that kind of information and I ain’t about to start.” He rolled over to get a better look at Kraglin. He needed to read this situation right if he ever wanted to have sex with his mate – first mate, that is—again. “That kind of information don’t matter to a Ravager, and the brat is gonna have to learn that.”

 

Kraglin was still looking down at his to-do list instead of Yondu. His body language was nonchalant, but Yondu hadn’t gotten to Captain at such a young age without being able to read people. Kraglin’s shoulders were a little too hunched for this topic to be considered boring.

 

“Did ya know Terran’s junk don’t tangle out like mine?” 

 

Kraglin snorted as he finally met Yondu’s gaze. Centaurian and Hraxian eyes locked, a barrage of emotions being silently shared and received. Kraglin finally made his way to Yondu’s large bed, sitting on the rim closest to his head. He reached out to touch Yondu’s prickly mug, spidery fingers gently tracing his face and fin guiding Yondu into the warm arms of sleep.

 

\--

Yondu didn’t often let himself think about it, but later on that night, when Kraglin was long gone and sleep had worn off, he let himself contemplate Kraglin and what the brat had unknowingly brought up. Everyone had something to be self-conscious about, though Yondu himself wouldn’t know, but Kraglin had more than one and Yondu pretty much knew them all; because they were obvious, not because he cared or anything. At the top of that list, would be his deformed genitals. 

 

The first time Yondu found his face between Kraglin’s legs, he knew something was different with slim thighs spread open to reveal a thick cock and nothing else, just a regular penis with a slightly flared head.  It was the penis he would expect to see attached to a Xandarian. Not that Yondu had been disappointed or surprised; no one had freaky alien sex without encountering a few surprises and letdowns along the way. It was part of the charm, the allure that kept brothels full and created new models of sex bots. Sex in space was weird. Hell, it was bound to get uncomfortable and awkward when different species tried to fit parts and levers to one another that weren’t supposed to fit with other parts and levers. One species’ lady parts might look identical to another species’ male parts, others didn’t look like anything familiar at all. New tastes and new smells. Learning to interpret the odd grindings, vibrations, or flexing that could either pleasure you or kill you depending on the mood.  

 

One learned quickly that as long as your differing biology didn’t cause a chemical reaction, you could pretty much find a way to get off.  If Yondu hadn’t managed to have sex with other Hraxians before he’d started bumping uglies with Kraglin, he wouldn’t have ever known or guessed. If he hadn’t have known about the mutations and malnourishment that happened among the Hraxian lower classes, he probably would have crudely asked. And ended the healthiest relationship he’d ever had with another living creature.

 

Kraglin hadn’t…developed properly. He was missing things was what the one major difference that Yondu had notices that being the entrance that made Hraxians a species of both sexes. It was a delicate area where the hungry folds of a cunt should be located, below the base of his cock but had never formed. Instead, it was sealed shut with a thick membrane of numb skin. Pink hairless flesh that would tighten up in pain when stimulated. His internal testicles hidden away forever, probably swimming around amid deformed fallopian tubes and a dead womb; a real shame cause Yondu had felt those suckers inside a fully developed Hrax before, and he knew they pulsed and shuddered during climax. His cock was the only thing to have developed properly, seeming to curl itself away in shame behind the protective slits of his sheath.

 

Not that Yondu had anything to complain about, he liked being fucked more than getting fucked and Kraglins thick long cock was more than satisfying. Oh yeah, Yondu could get his rocks off just fine riding that pulsing shaft forever given the chance.When he did want to do the fucking, Kraglin’s ass was perfect and tight and oh so sweet. Yondu hadn’t lost out on anything. And if he made sure to suck and nibble on every inch of Kraglin’s bony body, well that was because Yondu was one kinky bastard that did it for fun, certainly not sentiment.

Yondu called Tullk and Horuz for a meeting to go over the logistics of the heist. Both were smart enough not to mention the first mate absence.

 

“Boys we need ta make space for the weapons in the cargo hold but keep ‘em away from any place near the M-ship motors. We’ve got about a forty-five minute window before NOVA Corps comes to the rescue. Horuz you’ll lead the charge with three M-ships; pick whoever you think can get the job done. While you all distract them, me an’ Tullk will sneak in from below and gut the damn thing. I need Tullk to get me the smallest of the crew, about seven of ‘em, that’ll be able to wiggle in and out of the opening. We don’t need the thing to rip in half and kill the officers in the brig. Last thing we need right now is an entire NOVA fleet on our tales while being so close to their space.”  Carrying weapons to a civilization in a brink of civil war, while in possession of the type of drug strong enough to liquify brain cells.

 

“Yes Captain.” Horuz pounded his fist on his chest before going to gather his small fleet.

 

Tullk lagged. “Sir, I’d like one of my seven to be the boy.”

 

“Glad you mentioned it. Time for that brat to earn his keep.” Had Yondu taught the kid how to use a space mask? Well, Pete was a quick learner. “I’ll send him to ya.”

 

It wasn’t long before the crew was abuzz with anticipation, the promise of a big pay day making them work with more purpose. And it was no surprise when Kraglin showed up holding his holo-pad in a white-knuckled grip.  _ Guess he figured out that I’m keeping information from him. _

 

“Captain Yondu, sir.” He came to a sharp stop and pounded out his salute. It really shouldn’t turn Yondu on so much hearing Kraglin address him formally.

 

“What is it?” Kraglin’s back straightened, clearly irritated that Yondu would play as if nothing was up.

 

“Your orders, sir?” His voice was unwavering as always, but brown eyes begged Yondu to explain what he’s hiding.

 

“Jus finish your round kid, nothin’ for you to do here.” Yondu flicked his hand dismissively. Kraglin’s thin lips stretched thinner the only give away to his true feelings. 

 

Mumbling a “Yes Captain” before turning and leaving. Yondu couldn’t afford to waste time mulling over their interaction. He needed to have Kraglin stay on the ship and make sure everything ran smoothly while he and the kid went out. 

 

\--

 

When the NOVA ship finally appeared on radar, Yondu was pleased to see that his contact and his client were correct in their description. The ship was old, and it would be slow and easy to out maneuver. With a faded NOVA emblem still kept crisp on either side, the ship looked to be something from centuries past slowly making its way through space. Yondu hadn’t seen a ship like that since way before he became a Ravager; maybe sometime in his earliest slave years when being transported from place to place. He could still see, in his mind’s eye, a mass of space debris containing NOVA ships, all of them floating lifelessly in space showcased as trophies by the Kree, many with their crew’s frozen faces still twisted inside.

 

Yondu would bet his left nut that the crew inside this vessel were a bunch of old officers on their final voyage before retirement. The weapon transport mission likely a flattering last cargo for an aged crew to carry. Yondu could imagine it, old wrinkly fingers stamping their final checks of the old girl. To honor their final mission, Ravagers would rob them blind!

 

The first m-ships theatrically shot toward the ship, swooping in choppy zig-zag swirls, looking like an angry bumblebee. A second wave of M-ships soon joined the fray, easily dodging the defensive fire aimed at them by the corps. Were those old semi-solid laser beams still being used? Like all old ships, the force field had weak points, normally where the cargo was being held. Better to lose supplies than an engine, had been the reasoning behind those types of configurations. Modern ships employed force fields of equal strength in all directions. There weren’t the same power constraints today, thanks to advances in power cells since the era of this old NOVA vessel. Had this ship been the same ilk as a more modern NOVA design, then they would have had to use the  _ Eclector _ to disarm it, and quickly. As it was, their fleet of M-ships could get the job done just fine.

 

Flying right below the belly of the ship, knowing where the cargo should be held, Yondu positioned himself nose up and prepared to use a high-powered air gun to slice the shell of the old girl. He knew that Tullk and the rest were zipping over in their space suits, needing to enter the hold without their weapons being vacuumed out into space with the inevitable resulting shrapnel from the blast. Yondu needed to make the gash right next to the cargo tank where the ship’s natural response would be to seal all the doors to the area, keeping the crew, the shipment and Peter from dying. 

 

He got the signal from Tullk that they were close. It proceeded rather clinically after that. A slice and a woosh later and the Captain of the Eclector watched as a small party of ravagers slipped inside. Soon, a tiny Terran boy with big eyes carrying an arm full of plasma guns zoomed towards his ship, depositing them in the net tied to the body of Yondu’s personal M-ship,  _ The Arrow _ . Yondu was glad that nobody would be able to see the smile on his face with every successful run that Peter completed. Each time he carried more, looking prouder as he got used to the feeling of weightlessness. And, yeah, Peter’s sire might be a planet, but Ego would never know what it was like to be someone’s whole world, not like Peter was at that moment to Yondu. 

 

With the weapons secured, and  _ The Arrow _ weighed down by the cargo chugged along back to the  _ Eclector _ flanked by his M-ships. He spared one more backward glance to the old NOVA ship, always on alert for the unexpected. The crew aboard clearly weren’t going to bother with a chase as its engines flashed bright green lights of its distress signal. Space didn’t have room for the obsolete. They were lucky his Ravagers were under direct orders not to kill the crew, otherwise that ship would have also been a tomb.

 

After, the crew partied in true Ravager style, booze flowing freely and the ruckus so loud that only the Captain’s noise-blocking quarters afforded any quiet. Yondu basked in the glory. They were zipping off to the first rendezvous point where smaller pirate bands had been hired to steal more weapons by Yondu’s client. The Ravagers would take those weapons off the hands of the small fries and carry them to Hrax. It was risky business, dealing with other pirates. Yondu was sure that he’d have to kill a few of them with his arrow to drive forth understanding of who was in charge. But for now, party it was.

 

Looking over at where the kid was sat, listening to every word as Tulk bragged about his team’s effortless move in and out of the NOVA ship. He conveniently failed to mention how old the poor girl had been as he griped about the dangerous conditions of ship-less space travel and talked smack about the incompetent NOVA crew. Peter preened and glowed whenever praise went to the heist team. Yondu, at that moment, decided to let the kid keep the space mask. What with the way he’d gleefully floated around in that deadly blackness, Yondu was sure that Peter would take any opportunity to go back out.

 

Maybe it had something to do with his lineage, and Peter would one day grow into a full-blown planet himself. Perhaps he was subconsciously looking for a place in space to make his own. If the boy was to turn into a planet, then Yondu would make him into a port for his ravagers; a planet all to their own where they could hide their treasures and charge outsiders a small fortune to land, maybe have a sex bot city or two. It would at the very least make Stakar and the other  _ official  _ ravagers foam at the mouth with envy. Peter wouldn’t mind, he’d owe Yondu for the space mask.

 

Drifting from the thought of a giant Quill shaped planet, he noticed Kraglin was skulking outside the fringes of the celebration, his skinny, beak-nosed face unnaturally stony. Yondu understood why Kraglin was frustrated. Ravagers don’t like being purposefully excluded from the glory. Had this been any other first mate, they might believe that he was about to throw Kraglin out the air lock. Yet, Kraglin wasn’t just another first mate to Yondu but rather something he hadn’t quite placed yet. It wasn’t personal, he was just trying to see how much he could twist Kraglin around.

 

Ok, maybe he was still trying to gauge how Kraglin would take the news that the weapons they’d be taking from the pirate bands weren’t more plasma blasters, but rather a special container from one band to carry the e-bomb given to them by the other. An e-bomb where the ‘e’ stood for electric, on a planet where most of its inhabitants lived underground surrounded by metal alloys and combustible gasses.

 

Hrax was in a state of constant civil war, and its inhabitants were always killing each other anyway. Yondu had nothing to be ashamed of, and Kraglin had no right to want or demand information from his Captain. HE ran the show, and what HE said went. When he noticed Kraglin slink away from the party, Yondu followed soon after to set his foot down and lay down the law. He wouldn’t tolerate Kraglin’s sulking and if his first mate couldn’t learn to follow orders without questioning his judgment, then he’d be assigning that bony butt to scrubbing duty.


	4. They try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraglin and Yondu are never going to talk about their problems, Peter is going to learn some tough lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to pamdizzle my beta who has cleaned up my work a lot, and helped me keep things organized. Also, I added a shout out to Write_like_an_American tell me if you guys caught it! 
> 
> There will be some minor child abuse or discipline in this chapter and I think it's only fair that I worn you guys that it will only be getting more frequent from here on out. Remeber that Yondu's parenting style will always be flawed - this is why Quill harbors resentment for him when he grows up. Not that Quill doesn't remember the good too.

It turned out that Kraglin was no better at scrubbing the floors than a clumsy Terran. It also turned out that Kraglin could piss Yondu off better than said Terran.  

 

Following Kraglin into the first mate's room was a mistake that Yondu had realized too late. It wasn’t a shouting match like what Yondu had expected. It was mainly Yondu telling that shapeless-ass idiot why he needed to suck it up and do as told. Just because the two of them shacked up every once in awhile (five out of seven days for the last ten years or so), it didn’t mean that he, as the Captain, had any obligations to the first mate. 

 

In response, Kraglin spat that if Yondu decided to withhold information, preventing him from doing his job as the first mate, then he the Captain should just get on with it and demote him already. In reply, the Captain delivered a fist right into the first mate’s greasy face. 

 

That night Yondu went to bed alone, and three week-long cycles later he was still sleeping by himself. Kraglin hadn’t been demoted purely out of spite, because nobody told Yondu Udonta what to do. He’d instead been assigned to double shifts, with only three hours off between work cycles. 

 

Three weeks into their spat and Yondu could already hear rumors spreading. It would only be a matter of time before someone tried to take Kraglin out themselves to move up the chain of command. He knew he needed to fix the problem.

 

It was by the fourth week, when he noticed Kraglin heading towards the kitchen after finishing his shifts. Yondu knew that Kraglin would go in and do the inventory of the food; count every can, every bag, supplement, vitamin, dehydrated paste and anything that was edible or could be. Memorize the amount, reassure himself again and again that it was alright, there was food—that he wouldn’t go hungry or scrape for the most minuscule of crumbs, certain that he’d at least earned his keep. The damn street kid had never forgotten the feeling of hunger. 

 

Yondu could understand at some basic level, hunger was an awful empty feeling that hung around even when full. However, he hadn’t scraped for food or ate garbage like Kraglin had. He’d been a Kree battle slave, kept fed so he could fight to the death. A glorified pet to be beaten, used and polished. A starved slave could never last long in a fight. 

 

Yondu doesn’t do apologies, especially when it wasn't his fault that Kraglin thought that he could back talk the captain of the  _ Eclector _ . He’d wait this thing out, Kraglin couldn’t stay mad at him anymore than Quill could. They’d be humping again soon enough. 

 

Sitting in his office, Yondu squeezed the bridge of his nose. The mission had come up against what could become a problem. The small band of pirates which had been set to deliver the container wanted out. Someone must have done their research about the container, and what it uses might include. Now, Yondu had to chase them down and kill the crew to get it. He negotiated new terms with the client, demanding a higher fee for the trouble. They deserved whatever had been promised to the small pirate crew in exchange for stealing the thing, and a bonus for the extra jumps they’d be making.  

 

In the meantime, Kraglin would be sent to Contraxia to deliver some of the drugs to a hustler. It would give them enough time to pull off the heist without the Hraxian knowing, or getting shanked by an ambitious crew member. 

 

Swiveling off his chair, he stood up to look for his first mate. Kraglin would be leaving in half an hour which meant that it was time for some superstitious hanky panky. It had been a ritual of theirs for longer than Yondu could remember, sex before leaving on solo assignments. And with the dry spell that he’d been enduring he’d take a bout of very rough angry sex. Hell, he’d take it dry up the ass by this point. He commed Kraglin’s personal holo-wrist watch. Smirk in place.

 

“Kid, report to my office.”

 

“Negative, Captain, sir,” he replied briskly 

 

“Ar’ya givin me lip boy!” That damn stubborn piece of shit would be getting it when he got here.

 

“Sir, I’m ready to jump for Contraxia.” 

 

“Jump for Contraxia, I didn’t give ya permission to leave yet!”

 

“You said, deliver the package and meet ya at whatever coordinates you send me in a few days, ya didn’t tell when ta do, jus ta go.” He’d actually said  _ get the fuck out and make me money  _ to Kraglin so the kid had a point. Knowing Kraglin he’d been eager to do some work and took off as soon as possible.

 

True enough, looking at the ship’s log Yondu could see that Kraglin’s ship had departed about an hour ago, soon to be out of range for any private messages. 

 

Growling Yondu narrowed his eyes at the small image of Kraglin’s aloof face. Fist clenching ready to swing at anyone unlucky enough to walk into his private study. The pinching feeling in his gut was not hurt and he sure as hell wasn’t feeling paranoid no matter how fast his dead heart beat. 

 

“Ya, you do that kid, when you get back ya better hope you haggled that load for far more than it’s worth, cause m’not sendin’ you on some fucking holiday trip to Contraxia.”  Where whores were cheap and sex bot’s even cheaper. Not that Kraglin spent money on those, at least not when he had Yondu to take care of it.  And Yondu sure as fuck didn’t care who anyone shacked up with, hell he’d been meaning to add some variety to his sex life. There was plenty of crew to pick from.  He barely heard Kraglin’s salute before the holo pad screen went black. 

 

\---------------------------

 

Sex was off the table by the time Yondu rounded up his crew and assessed the situation. First he was pretty sure none of these guys did it like he would like it, second the females on the ship eat their partners during copulation (something Yondu needed to make sure Quill knew before puberty hit), and third they had reached their jump point and needed to work quickly if they were to catch the smaller band.

 

“A’right ravagers make it quick! We go in, take the cargo and anyt’ng you can get your paws on and kill anyone that tries ta stop us.” A chorus of cheers broke out. “Get suited up.” 

 

Spotting Quill zipping up his little red jumpsuit gave Yondu pause. It was too late to start hiding the reality of the ravager lifestyle from the boy; he’d had already been out on a mission.  The crew was sure to notice if Yondu refused to make the kid earn his keep.They’d think he’d gone soft. Quill would have to grow up quick now. The universe didn’t have space for innocence. 

 

“Boy, remember how ta use that knife. I see ya slacking and I’ll whistle ya.” He didn’t spare Quill another look after that, and ignored the way the boy shook slightly in his boots. Whether it was from excitement or fear was anyone’s guess. Small hands clutched his new space mask tightly. Quill’s body frame was still too small to handle a blaster but big enough to use a laser knife given to him by Kraglin, which the boy dubbed  _ lightsaber.  _ Dumb brat couldn’t even properly name a knife.

 

Hearing the familiar roar of engines loosened Yondu’s shoulders. He loved raids; it was safe emotional territory. Unlike the zooming M-ship heading to Contraxia. He stretched his back from side to side popping joints and tendons on the way. Wetting his lips he pushed all thoughts of his first mate and the small Terran from his mind. This was his time, the moments that would come next were his to own and thrive under. Yondu Udonta, Captain of the 99th exiled ravager crew, meanest, toughest son of a bitch known to the universe, would make sure everyone in the surrounding galaxies never forgot what kind of pirate he was. He’d make an example of the foreign crew, and wash away any thoughts of mutiny from his own. 

 

He barely flinched when the atoms of his body stretched and swelled during the jump, forcing his body to contract and expand like a rubber band. His blood stung in his veins as molecules and cells snapped back into place. He spared no time in shouting his orders to his crew.

 

“Get ready to board!” 

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

The smaller pirate ship looked to be well made for speed. A small compacted vessel no bigger than a few M-ships mushed together zipped about expertly, dodging blasts and M-ships alike. Small ships like that were good for quick getaways, perfect for thieving. It truly was a shame when it’s shield buckled under the onslaught, after the M-ships finally engaged it from all sides. The Eclector hovered over it like a large spider sinking its fangs into its prey. Like venom, the ravagers forcefully boarded the ship. 

 

Yondu walked through the nearest opening, an area where the air locks hadn’t worked fast enough to seal in the oxygen. A floating corpse spun about, still affected by the force of the impact. He headed to the sealed door at the front, making his way closer to the deceased female Xandarian whose pink skin was dusted with ice shards, green glass eyes looking lifelessly into the abyss, lips stretched - wait. Glass eyes? He narrowly dodged a mechanical arm swinging at his head. Shit.

 

“AI!!” shouted someone from behind him, before madness broke out. Nothing like dealing with creatures that didn’t need food, water, or oxygen to exist. He wouldn’t be able to whistle them out of it, not with his face being encased in a space mask. 

 

He pulled out his blaster and, using the remaining walls of the smaller ship as leverage, shot at the incoming A.I’s metal arm. The arm blew off, exposing wires and nanobot muscle tissue. Its lean mechanical body twisted from the impact. Yondu shot again, this time taking its head right off. 

 

By the sound of his crew screaming through the com links, the place must have been crawling with the mechanical abominations. Sure enough, the door Yondu was heading for slid open to reveal a swarm of synthetic beings. They immediately flew at him, blades swinging and blasters shooting at will. Double shit. 

 

Zig-zagging through space with jet boots was not an easy task, doing so with killer robots on your tail was a feat Yondu was sure to brag about to Kraglin when the duffus got back. Hell, zooming backwards through space while being pursued by killer robots while dual wielding blaster guns was a level of badassery that Yondu would brag about to the whole damned crew.  

 

“Horuz protect the ship! Tullk, you and your team go get the cargo. The rest of you: we’re playing bait! Draw them out of the ship!” There was a series of ‘yes Captains’ before more ravagers and M-ships focused on drawing out as many AI as possible. 

 

The Eclector, still hovering above, pulled away from the fray. Nothing could make this situation worse than having AIs board the ship to jack with the network. Yondu busied himself blasting metal heads off. He needed the signal from Tullk to call a retreat.

 

“Captain we’ve got eyes on the cargo.” 

 

“Get it out then! I ain't got all day!” 

 

A number of robots had dwindled, as expected. That ship couldn’t hold too many crew members, living or nonliving. Wires and shrapnel floated along with blood and mangled body parts, making it hard for Yondu to tell what was what. They would have to pick up new recruits for sure at the next port.  His com link buzzed to life, Tullk’s gasped breathing coming through in huffs.  

 

“We’ve left the ship! Heading to the Eclector.” 

 

“Alright, boys! Haul ass; we're jumping as soon as I’m in!”   

 

Twenty ravagers had died in that raid, all lower ranking crew, but the loss of teammates would be wearing on the minds of those closest to them. Kraglin needed to get back soon with that money. With fewer crew members, more money would go around and with more money less crew would be upset. Yondu also needed to reassure them that the cargo they had stolen was worth it, that it was a bonus from their high paying client. He’d need to throw another party; make it seem like it was no big deal, which it really wasn’t. It might also pull Quill from his room, where the brat had confined himself since he’d come back aboard. 

 

The  _ Eclector _ blasted the remaining ship to smithereens and jumped out of there before the robots could reorganize themselves or contact near by ships. The container and some interesting trinkets had been safely stashed and, to the best of Yondu’s knowledge, anyone that came across the ship would simply assume that it was just regular space pirate business. He couldn’t let himself believe that anyone other than Him, Tullk, Huroz and the client knew what was really being fought over. And only him and his Client knew what that e-bomb would be used for. 

 

It didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth that some pseudo-species of robots had more of a conscious than he did. He didn’t care what anyone thought. The money for this job would be greater than any amount ever offered by anyone else, Ego included. This job would erase any thoughts of him going soft, of Quill costing them money, of the exile.

 

This wouldn’t be the first nor the last genocide to happen in the universe. The Hraxians should count themselves lucky that it’s happening between each other and not an invasive species. And who knows, maybe having one of those posh moons blow up would finally give the planet-side Hraxians a chance to move up. Anyways, Hraxians are always killing each other, it was part of their nature. They loved it. If that e-bomb was used it would be a mercy killing. Far more humane than ripping each other's throats out with their teeth. It was better this way. If not the 99 ravager crew, then someone else would have come along and delivered it. Kraglin would understand, he was just as soulless as Yondu. 

 

\------------

  
  
  
  


Two day-cycles later and Kraglin was back on board. He raised an eyebrow at Yondu when he noticed the mood of the ship. Yondu filled him in on the heist that they’d pulled off, telling Kraglin that the guys who were to give them more blasters had demanded more money. So Yondu had decided to cut the middle man out. They hadn’t expected a small army of AI’s to be the crew. They’d be paid and compensated by the Client so no harm was done. Kraglin just nodded and transferred the units to the ship's accounts. Several ravagers could be heard cheering at the familiar ding of units being deposited into their accounts chimed. 

 

“We gonna throw a party, right?” Yondu just smirked at him. He and Kraglin really are just a great couple-er partners - crewmates. 

 

“Ya know it!” Wrapping an arm around his first mate's shoulders, he asked, “Whad’ya do those days waiting for me to give ya the coordinates?” Yondu squeezed him slightly harder than was considered nice. Kraglin better give him a good answer unless he wanted his jaw to match his nose. 

 

“I got ya something.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Yondu loved gifts, he especially liked it when they came from Kraglin. “A pretty trinket for my console?” 

 

“Nah, a pretty trinket for ya,” Kraglin whispered, his dark eyes peaking at Yondu to gage his reaction. Yondu’s smirk widened into the closest thing to a smile a mug like his could make. He knew him and Kraglin would be humping each other soon enough again. Dumb kid could never stay mad and Yondu for long. 

 

“Well, I sur hope’ it matches my angel eyes.” 

 

While the party went on in full swing, Yondu took note that Quill was still confined in his room. He would have to deal with it later. Right now he needed his first mate and him to have a strategizing meeting in his private office. To go over star charts and stuff. 

 

\--------------------------------------

 

It went on like nothing had happened. Kraglin got his regular shift back and the brat got over whatever self-imposed exile he put himself in. Five weeks had gone by, Kraglin seemed to resign himself into following Yondu blindly into whatever mission he was refusing to include him in. He didn’t complain about the increase of solo missions, and only fussed a little when Yondu had ordered him to take Quill out and teach him how to haggle.

 

Yondu knew that Kraglin wasn’t fooled by his cheap tactics. It would only be a matter of time before another fight broke out between them. Kraglin’s barely concealed temper could at times be experienced during Yondu’s end of shift. With the asshole refusing to come to his bedroom to sooth Yondu’s muscles or guide him into sleep. Or, if he’s really getting sick of it, he leaves Yondu to deal with Quill all by himself.  As he had presently, with a very curious eleven-year-old.

 

“Yondu, why don’t you have nipples?” 

 

Running his hands over his face, Yondu wondered why the universe decided to punish him with Quill instead of just killing him off. Sighing he glanced past the shiny new bobble that now graced his console. The two of them were alone at the moment, the control room silent other than Yondu’s exasperated breathing and Quill’s excited huffs of expectation.

 

“Boy, Imma haf’ta sear your eyes shut ery time ya shower.” He jerked to the side in a mock attempt at taking a swipe at the boy. Quill flinched away but held his ground.

 

“I just wanna know! You have none, I’ve got two, Kraglin’s got none, Tullk has eight! I wanna know why!” 

 

He groaned again as he sunk deeper into the captain's chair, his back too tight for him to get comfortable.  

 

“Look ‘ere, all mammals have someting like nips - don’t know why and don’t damn care - I ‘aven’t got no babe running about so mine don’t come out till then, and Krag ain’t no mammal.” Their eyes locked for a moment. Yondu hoped this would be the end of it.  

 

“So if you were going to have a baby, your nipples would appear?”

 

“Yep, it’s the sure way of know’n if I fucked up. No nips no prego female around that got me seed squirming in her.”  Quill pulled a face at the last comment.

 

“Ok, and Kraglin’s like a - a - lizard?” 

 

“Something like it. Hraxians lay eggs by the dozen, and keep them warm in a rock nest. Its why there’s so damn many of ‘em.” To throw away and replace at a seconds notice, he silently added to himself.

 

They’re like rodents, Yondu thought, reproducing like rats but dying fast enough to keep the population from overwhelming the planet. Maybe that’s why they’re always at war, it may be how they control the population? In Kovu and Hraxun, only the wealthy lay eggs, and even they pick the best one and kill the others. On Hrax itself, Yondu wasn’t sure how that worked, but there were enough half dead children milling about for him to suspect something similar. He also recalled during his time as a slave that most of them were Hraxian, battle slaves and service slaves alike, they numbered by the thousands. Kraglin was too scrawny to be sold into slavery and did hard labor in the mines instead. 

 

“Do you collect bobbles cause you’re making Kraglin a nest?” This time Yondu did reach out and whop him. Knocked the kid right on his ass. 

 

“Boy, get the hell outta here before I eat cha!” Yellowed teeth snapped together.

 

“Jus ask’n, you’re a always getting food an stuff from ‘em, jus figured!!” The boy wailed between cries. Maybe Yondu had hit him harder than he thought. It’ll toughen him up. Yondu was sure of it. That was until he realized that Peter wasn’t holding the shoulder that Yondu had hit, nope he was just sitting on the floor bawling. Like it was the first day that he’d met the ravagers. 

 

“Pete come on, I ain't hit ya hard enough for all that.” Lowering his voice to the nearest tone of comfort that he knew. “Get up, you’re fine” 

 

Peter’s face just turned purple, knees drawn to his chest mouth gasping for breaths between hiccups and tears. There was no stopping whatever sudden wave of emotion from taking over. Yondu had seen this before in warriors that couldn’t handle fighting anymore or slaves that just couldn’t manage to survive. The total despair that overrode any sense of self-preservation that wouldn’t be dampened by hunger, or training, or the cruelest master.

 

He called for Kraglin telling him to get to them right now, something in the tone of his voice must have alerted the Hraxian to the seriousness of the situation for there was no grumble for waking him. Yondu kept his eyes glued to the front of the ship concentrating on the endless stars stretched ahead. He willed his mind from Peter and his wailing in hopes that it would keep the memories at bay.

 

When Kraglin finally staggered in, winded from the run, Quill was still whimpering and Yondu was still rigidly staring out into space. 

 

“Damnit, what the hell?” He strode over to Quill to crouch in front of the balled up boy. “Brat, what’cha do to the captain?” 

 

“I ain't do nothing.” 

 

“Oh, ya did somethin’, so spit it out and stop crying. Ain't nobody gonna kill you.”  Spidery fingers held Quill at both shoulders. “ Getta hold of yer’self, thas it - jus breath.” 

 

“I was jus askin, and Yon-Yondu hit me.” Kraglin just nodded. 

“Yeah, he does that sometimes. But that don’t mean ya get to blubber about it.” Standing up he offered Quill a hand, in which the small boy took. “Go to your room, listen to your music kid. Doncha let nobody see ya like that.” With his elbow he nudged Quill towards the door. Quill spared him a glance before shuffling out.

 

Kraglin made sure to close the door to the control room firmly after the sulking Terran finally left. Containing a sigh, he carefully headed towards Yondu. Making sure not to creep up on him, giving the Captain a wide radius to see him. 

 

“Captain, sir.” 

 

“I barely touched him, Krags.” 

 

“So, kids dramatic you knows that.” 

 

“I didn’ hurt ‘im?” 

 

“No, sir. I’m betting he’s nursing a hurt from before. Been moody ever since that raid gone bad a few weeks back.” Moving closer to Yondu, Kraglin held his palms out. “Bet it's all the new responsibilities and what not.”

 

“He didn’t lose no friends.”

 

“No, but he’d never been in a fight like tha’ before.” Closer now, blue hands met pink once half way. “Must have been real scary for ‘im. He prolly came to ya for some comfort.” 

 

Yondu snorted at that. “He needs to look somewhere else for that.” 

 

Carefully, like a man who knew he would be skewered if he said the wrong thing, Kraglin ran his hands up Yondu’s arms, gently stroking his shoulders before drawing him in.

 

“He’ll learn to find it somewhere else.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Yondu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting pretty heavy between the two. Hopefully, Yondu will fix his mistakes before it's too late.

Chapter 5

The e-bomb would be delivered on time, ravagers should expect in a week two outlaws dressed in blue at the drop off located on dwarf planet Porcla, newly colonized by Poppupians and Plodex explorers. Both species are known shapeshifters which really set Yondu’s teeth on edge added with their ability to kill you faster than you can blink created a nice cocktail of anxiety. The bright side to them was that they didn’t care if you were Nova or Kree as long as the fee was paid at the port you’d be welcomed and unbothered. 

This left Yondu with two problems to deal with before the delivery. The first being Kraglin and the second being Quill. He needed to distract Kraglin from what was happening, less he wanted the guy to be living in the kitchen from here on out. Quill would have to be dealt with later, his tiny Terran brain could handle a little more pouting. Yondu’s main objective was to make it up to Kraglin now before the drop off happened. 

Kraglin was still asleep and naked, last night being something Yondu rather not remember had drained both of them quite a bit. He did feel a smidge of guilt towards Quill, the kid could have probably used Kraglin’s reassurance. The smidge wasn’t enough guilt for him to share Kraglin when he himself needed him. First come, first serve...right? Closing his eyes, he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. 

His blue skin shimmered with a candied layer that coated his chest and arms that made his limbs feel heavy, he personally didn’t like this kind of thing - but Kraglin had a thing for sweets and at least in the privacy of his own mind Yondu could admit that he kind of had a thing for Kraglin. He could bear with the feeling of syrup seeping through the seams of his pouch this once.

Clenching himself tight he leaned down to leave a plate on the floor before he scuttled on top of Kraglin. He sealed his mouth over the Hraxian’s thin lips. Kraglin woke up with a start but didn’t put up a fight when the tart flavoring filled his mouth along with a slippery tongue. He pulled away before the both of them choked, pink liquid dribbling down their chins. 

This was messier than Yondu had anticipated. 

“Yondu?” Kraglin managed to say after swallowing the juice of the berries Yondu had mushed in his mouth. Yondu just smirked and popped another berry into Kraglin’s mouth, this time letting his fingers slide within. His lover sucked them readily enough his dark eyes dilated when the realization finally hit. Stradling Kraglin, Yondu shivered with each sucking his fingers got. His lover's knobby fingers found their way to his chest scraping up sugary gew leaving streaks of blue sticky skin behind. 

Oh yeah, this was going to be one hell of a mess. 

Pulling Yondu’s fingers from his mouth, Kraglin licked up his arm settling at the inside of Yondu’s elbow sucking every sweet drop pulled within the wrinkles. When finished Kraglin slid his tongue on every inch of flesh he could reach, from the dips of Yondu’s biceps to the curve of blue pecs, kissing the bundle of nerve hidden under his flesh. Yondu not wanting to disturb whatever trance Kraglin was in let the Hraxian worship his body; moaning everytime sharp teeth grazed his flesh, preening under the attention of his ever faithful companion he let his scars be exposed to the Kraglin’s nonjudging eyes. His tortured skin wreathing under Kraglin’s veneration.

Yondu didn’t like slow sex, it made him feel too much, think too hard. Made his scars itch and his heart skip beats. But he’d make it through, for Kraglin he’d make it through. This was to be ‘make-up-time’ not ‘rut-till-you-feel-Krag’s-dick-in-your-gut-time’. He would endure. 

Never to waste a drop of food, Kraglin gave Yondu a pleading look before diving his tongue into the seams of his pouch in a desperate journey to catch every morsel. Breath becoming harder to catch each time his first mate's slippery tongue lapped against the extra delicate skin. And wasn’t this new for them both? But damn if it didn’t make Yondu’s toes curl. His dick weeping with need as it spiraled tighter standing to its full height, as shocks of thunder rolled up his back with each lick of his inner nipples. 

“Thas for babes Krags” He managed to gasp out. 

Letting out a lude slurp Kraglin looked up at him and nodded before doing the same to the rest, it took what seemed like a delicious millennium for the front to be finished. Yondu rolled backward to the space between Kraglins legs, not hesitating Kraglin hiked blue legs over his shoulders sucking one last time on the skin right above Yondu’s cock, their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds. 

“Thas it Krag’s there’s more fo ya ta taste don ther.” 

And there was, right between tendrils. Expertly Kraglin’s fingers coxed each slippery member apart to find what treasures Yondu had hidden from him. Centaurian, unlike most cocks around the universe, looked more like a drill. Eight long muscular tentacles wind up together to create a larger thicker member. When erect like Yondu was now, each tendril would tighten releasing semen secreted from special glands located along the sides. Kraglin’s fingers gently forcing them apart, his lips slurping up Yondu’s cum. There was nothing that the Centaurian could do but whimper in pain and pleasure.

That deadly tongue slipped in between each tentacle sucking and lapping up every piece of berry Yondu had wedged in as his offering. His legs shook, he cried out when he was finally let go fully twist tightly again to percolate more cum. The sweat the smell of sugar and sex making his head spin. Slack-jawed he reached down to pet Kraglin’s dandruff covered mohawk. 

“Fuck Krags, I ain’t waiting no more!” Kraglin grabbed each lobe of ass and spread him open. Only to pause, wide eyes looked up at him, Yondu smirked. 

“Was that Cap’n?” dipping his fingers in he wiggled the small orange nub that was sticking out slightly by now. 

“A Carrot.” 

Yondu deadpanned, completely unashamed of the fact that he used one of the cook’s Terran roots brought on board as a butt plug.

Kraglin pulled a little of it out some more twisting and inspecting it watching how the skin of Yondu’s pucker twisted around the edges. Before pushing it back in, and pulling it out and in again and out and in. Lungs heaving with each blow, the shorter male’s strangled inhalations filling the room. The crunching sound of Kraglin eating and fucking mingled with the sounds. The knowledge of those teeth gnawing so close to his tender areas sent Yondu’s dick into a crazed spasm trickling cum down to his balls. 

When the hardness of the carrot was consumed out of him, Kraglin was up on his knees mouth still chewing eyes fully focused on Yondu’s entrances. Reaching out bracing his hands on Kraglin’s shoulders, his heartfelt proud to see that shy cock standing tall and hard for him because of him. Sighing as it entered him slowly, he wrapped his legs around his first mate's tiny waist as the Hraxian pulled out halfway. 

“Do it hard.” 

“Yes, Cap’n” 

The first thrust nailed him deep, he felt more than heard the vertebrae in his lower back pop. Each pound of flesh sending electric shocks up his spine. Kraglin’s skeletal body moving that long shaft into him relentlessly. Leading them both closer to that desperate fin. Reaching down to the floor Yondu’s arms straining to get a hold of xandarian cake letting it squish in his hands before shoving it into Kraglin’s gasping mouth before their teeth crushing it as they kissed. Crumbs of cake and icing speared between lips, plastered against their sweaty necks keeping it moist. 

The cake all but dissolved between their fevered bodies, working its way into every pore, Yondu was sure of it. 

Yondu came first, screaming his gratitude into their shared kiss. Three more pumps and Yondu filled with Hraxiun cum, Kraglin whimpering as he rode out the last of his orgasm in slow tortuous pelvic thrusts. Hiding his face in Yondu’s neck, slick tongue licking the last traces of sugar from the folds of skin. 

Letting gravity pull them apart the captain of the Eclector pulled Kraglin close to his body again soon after. They fell asleep in a tangle of limbs and relaxed genitalia. He’d burn the sheets later, can’t have vermin running around in his room. 

 

\---------------------------------

Yondu wasn’t sure what he’d do with Quill. The damn brat had kept either following him about the ship or throwing giant tantrums. At least he hadn’t had another bout of tears since the incident at the helm. He monitored the amount of physical contact that the two had, making sure he didn’t do anything to set that lower lip into a wobble. Kraglin seemed to be amused by the whole thing. 

“Kids are like tha Capt’n, is why they’re so damn hard to raise.” 

“I ain’t ask for your advice.” 

“It ain’t advice sir, jus a fact.” 

Sighing the captain ran his hands down Kraglin’s naked back, it been awhile since he contemplated the tattoos. And here in the privacy of his room Yondu let his fingers linger over each mark. One snarled finger resting over a smaller round mark. He liked that one the most, it was a small series of black rings getting smaller and smaller towards the center. Quill would ask what each meant had he been allowed to look at them. He liked the rounder ones more than the sharp block like once further up Kraglin’s body. 

“I like t‘is on’ here.” 

“Means star-wonder sir.” 

“Is nice.” He drawled out “Purty lil ting” 

Yondu decided that he’d teach the brat how to fly an M-ship tomorrow to make up for it. The kid was probably pre-pubescent by Terran standards - was eleven when they started getting all weird and shit? He’d throw in a jacket for good measure, kid was getting too big for that jumpsuit anyways. 

“How bout this un here?” He touched the large one with a nail indent.

“Steadiness,” Kraglin said that with a snort. Not needing to say anything other than applying a little more pressure to get more on the subject. “Large once is picked by the other, it's supposed to say how well they know ya.” 

“That idjit picked steady as your main personality?” Damn, that’s what Yondu would have picked.

“Yep, the next one means generosity.” And with that, the two broke out into laughter. 

“What an idiot!” 

“Yeah, I know! Fucken dumbass.” 

Falling into a comfortable silence Yondu stretched out on his now bare mattress, the sheet and furs being in the rarely used washer machine in his private office, a gift from Martinex. They’d have to use the airlock to dry them out. He let his hands wonder his first mates back, pleased whenever the Hraxian gave more tidbits of information, this line means that that one is just for decoration. He hoped that Kraglin wouldn’t think that last night meant a new trend for them, Yondu never if ever wanted food up places like those again. And yeah ok, maybe he did in joy the way Kraglin was looking at him now, or how he’d woken up in a frenzy to clean up Yondu’s bed. Deeply blushing as he moved from the bed to the shelves of trinkets and even nervously folded and hung up his captain's clothes. 

Had there been an Anthropologist or Zoologist around they might have noticed the way the Centaurian watched from the corner of his room, letting out small clicks of approval at how the Haraxian cleaned and rearranged the room, a paragon of nesting and mating rituals. But hey, there was neither of the two around. Yondu could be given the benefit of the doubt seeing as he had been removed so young from his species for him to claim that he completely understood what he was feeling.

“It’s about as good as it’ll get sir, les ya ‘ant me ta get some’n on the next stop?” Like perhaps a flamethrower. 

Yondu wasn’t quite sure what the flark was going on, but he sure liked the feeling of the both of them in his now clean room. Liked the way his toes tingled and Kraglin’s pretty socket bulbs focused on him. 

“Should I get the kid, so we can clean up?” 

“Yeah, damn brat already has that stench.” They sat for a while longer, neither eager to dress up and get Quill for a much-needed shower. It seemed whenever given the chance Quill would make things awkward. Damn brat is sure to ask them if they had pancakes for breakfast without him. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

With no real plan on how to inform Kraglin about what was to be delivered in a few day cycles. Yondu was keeping it cool and collective. No one needed to know his internal struggle. Quill was still having mood swings but had been happier since his first jerky driving test on the oldest M-ship. A real Ravagers jacket helped with that too. 

He walked along the varnishing halls of the Eclector shouting orders, double checking the engines calibrator, gravity shield, water filtration, waste filtration that fed into the water filtration, and most importantly the oxygen converter. Yondu knew that he wasn’t going to fight the smaller pirate band, he just needed to make sure that when it became time to jump for Hrax everything would be in place to jump out. They would not be going planetside. 

The crew, on the other hand, was running business, as usual, the cook had given Yondu the stank eye but said nothing of the matter, if Yondu couldn’t take liberties in the kitchen what good was it being captain? Sugar was cheap, he’d replace what he’d taken from the crotchety old bat later. 

Kraglin was back at th-his HIS room putting the now clean sheets on his bed, Yondu had to get the hell out of there before he was consumed by the parasites living in his gut. 

Over the bridge of the engine room, he notices Half-nut giving him a once over, there was someone’s attention that Yondu could go without. No one knew about his and Kraglin’s ...whatever thing they had….not because he gave a damn about who knew who he was fucking, but because he didn’t need others feeling that Kraglin got his position for being the captain’s bitch. He’d be killed within a few days. 

In most ships, the captain took their pleasure from whoever with no strings attached. Part of the deal when given the keys to the ship. Cock, ass, pussy and what not for the taken and control. He’d seen the dynamics of a crew change too many times when the game started for him to want any part of that shit. Fear controlled crew members better than some weird need to submit to the ‘alpha’ of the pack. The other ravagers might enjoy the game but Yondu knew better. Sex almost always lead to feelings, feelings lead to relationships that lead to jealousy, murder, and expectations. 

Once he turned captain he stop messing around with crew mates, whores, and strangers. Sex bots where his go-to for years and then later by accident Kraglin. Sexual exploitation wasn’t Yondu’s thing, never had been nor will it. The first few weeks of his Captaincy he brutally affirmed that to his new crew; beaten anybody that tried anything, sent them back to Stakar or just killed them. He ran things differently, sex wouldn’t out trump hard work and discipline on his ship. 

He didn’t slow down his stride for Half-nuts lear, barely acknowledge him. Let them all think he likes bots because they were just bigger versions of his bobbles. Letting the slinky bastard get nothing more than an eye full. Piercing his lips for a whistle, rejoicing on the way ravager jumped with each lilt of his melody. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pulka was a nothing planet with a nothing capital. Literally, there was a total of eight floating buildings on the dwarf planet the rest was water. No whores, no citizens, just a fleet of about thirty beings known as Plodex that looked like blobs on one side of the canal and maybe ten Poppupians on the other side sitting on the dock fishing. The saloon, if one could call it that served one drink, a watered down spirit that wouldn’t even be strong enough to disinfect wounds. Yondu internally growled when he realized that the guys in blue hadn’t arrived yet. 

Sitting on one bar stool he looked over to make sure only Tullk had followed him in. Most of the Crew stayed behind once the vastness of the town had been walked through. At least they could replenish their water source and air out the ship. The cook seemed thrilled to be able to buy dried fish for the stock, especially when she learned that any fish caught was yourself is free of charge. Yondu didn’t care what the spiky demon of an old woman wanted to stock the ship with, if it was free she could feed them with it. 

“What a metropolis we’re in Captain.”

“Can it, we pickup the damn thing and get the hell out of here.” Yondu ignored the questioning eyebrow aimed at him. 

“Yes, sir think they just walked in.” 

Sure enough, two burly things walked in, blue jacket stretched over bulging muscles. The duo made eye contact with one another before all four stepped out. No point in blending in when they were clearly outsiders. The drop went down without a fluke, the two guys couldn’t seem to get rid of it fast enough. E-bombs were pretty small, about the size of an eyeball, smooth in all directions the detonator that fastened around it was kept apart both wrapped in sheets of rubber. Not that it would help if the damn thing went off during a jump or high turbulence.

He’d carry the bomb Tullk the detonator, in theory, it can’t go off if it’s not put together. The Nova crew that accidentally blew themselves up thought the same thing a few years ago. 

They waited about a minute after they had switched pocket belongings. The familiar sound of money being deposited in accounts finally split the group. It was only Huroz waiting for them at the back entrance of the cargo hold, cases opened. Quietly barely breathing Yondu placed the bomb into the innermost chamber of the container, locking the object in an oscillating hatch. Sealing it completely, Tullk places the detonator in the outer container. He’d give it to the that no name pirate fleet - they had some balls to carry that thing with no container for so far. 

The trio exchanged a tense look between each other when the final clamps and locks sealed shut. Only Yondu and the client knew the code to opening it. 

“Not a word to the crew, ya tell anyone who ask that we was stopping for fresh water and food. Got that boys.” 

“Yes Captain!” Huroz saluted followed by Tullk, the larger of the two and apparently the smarter of the two left without any instructions, the dumb one stayed. 

“Someth’n’ on ya mind Tullk?”

“Jus thinken Sir, that the first mate should be the one delivering the cargo.” Yondu should have just punched his mouthy second mate then and there.

“Ya questioning my orders boy?” flicking his jacket to reveal his arrow, causing the heavily scarred man to take a step back. 

“N-No sir! jus that it’s his home planet, you and m-me would stand out... Nova would catch us for sure!.” 

Yondu narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t whistle or throttle Tullk, yet. Taking his cue to continue “We ain't gotta tell ‘em what he’s delivering captain Udonta sir, things not to heavy he can cart it in, jus’ tell Krags it’s fragile ya know Sir?” 

Had it been anybody but Tullk Yondu would have sworn the second hand was being officious, had the advice come from Halfnut or Taserface than Yondu would have smelled a mutiny. He didn’t though, he trusted Tullks loyalty and knew that he meant well by mentioning a possible solution to their nearing problem. 

“Get boy, I’ll decide what’s what.” 

“Yes, Captain.” 

Yondu ran a hand down his face, fuck he just couldn’t furtively plan his mission without involving his first mate. Tullk was right. Damn it. They wouldn’t be able to pull this off without Kraglin. As much as Yondu hated to think it, Kraglin’s lower cast appearance would help them slip in and out of the servant halls. The client would have to be informed, a new safer rendezvous point would need to be established, and he would inform Kraglin what was happening. No way in hell would he send Kraglin into a mission without him knowing all the details. 

Straightening his back the Centaurian captain did one more once-over of the container and the empty storage room before setting the bio lock to only him. He called for Kraglin on his com, waiting patiently for the willowy man. 

Kraglin rounded the corner a sly smirk on his face. Dumb asshole probably thought he’d won their cold war and won himself some shacking. The sex might have been great against the cold walls of the storage room any other day, but not today. Today, Yondu is the captain of the Eclector needing a complete understanding and blind faith of his first mate. 

“You called sir.” 

“Look Krags I’m gonna tell ya some’n thas gonna piss ya off, and I ain’t gon listen to no lip for it - got it.” 

A confession wasn’t Yondu’s thing, it felt unnatural. Sure he should have given Kraglin full details, should have explained what was at stake, Yondu should have, couldn’t have and would have admitted a lot of things to his first mate but didn’t. He liked where Kraglin and him where at right now in their, dare he say it - relationship. He didn’t want some dumpy job screwing everything up. Not now when there was a nest in his room that made his stomach flip and a Terran boy he needs help taking care of. 

He confessed about the blasters, hell he even informed the Hraxian about who they were going to and for what. Kraglin had taken it surprisingly well, his natural stolid self back in full force.

“Thought we didn’t do political stuff.” 

“We don’t do children.” Damn, why’d he go say that? The look that his first mate leveled him with spoke for itself. Yondu was fucked...and not in a good way. 

“Ya, guess my kind can’t be kiddies right.” 

“I ain’t meant-”

“You’re the capt’n sir, ya do what ya want.” Kraglin turns to leave to face the sharp end of Yondu’s arrow, frozen in the spot his shoulders tensed.

“Boy, don’t ya ever cut me off again, next time I'll be pok’n a new eye socket for ya.” This damn kid wanted Yondu to kill him. It has been along time since Kraglin had clipped him like that, there definitely isn’t a cold feeling developing in Yondu’s gut. Nope. 

“How much?” 

“Wa waz that?”

“How much is the pay out..sir?” 

“It’s good Krags, real good.” And like the conniving man that he was, Yondu laced some truth to his lie. “ Just a shipment of blasters going ta some rebels, thas all - ain't like we gonna participate this here is jus a job.” Inching forward blue hands reached out to touch the Hraxian shoulders. “For all we know, they’re gonna use it to kill Nova soldiers darl’n.” 

“Captain, ya need me to transport the weapons.” It wasn’t a question.

“Four cycles from now, jus you cuz you’ll blend in.” The silence that followed taunted Yondu, telling him that now would be the time to say something. He didn’t. What could he say? Not that he’d been able to say anything with the way his jaw snapped from the impact of a bony fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I'll be going back and editing somethings this next week so don't get surprised when your notifications go off a few times. I'm not changing much other than a few miss spellings and changing Kraglin's eyes to blue. I do apologize for that, I have a thing for dark brown eyes so I can sometimes project that to my characters without noticing. 
> 
> Also, I'm looking for a BETA, my fabulous current beta can't do the jobs at the moment. So please if you're interested and have the time let me know! other than that bare with me, I'll do my best in catching errors. 
> 
> Comments are welcomed as are critics (though you won't catch me suffering over them).

**Author's Note:**

> It's a quick one, I don't have a beta and I'm really sorry for any and all miss spelling.


End file.
